


Ithaka

by Irraya



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Aromantic Character, Asexual Character, Autistic Character, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irraya/pseuds/Irraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reapers aren't the only monsters in Ashley Williams' life, but as she learns that the galaxy isn't always what it seems, maybe she can learn to fight them off. </p><p>Snippets of Ashley from the end of ME2 through to the aftermath of the destroy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A letter

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Mass Effect/characters/etc. This is all appreciative fanwork.
> 
> Generally the same universe as Broken Path and For the Future, except Virmire worked out a little differently (ie. Ashley, not Kaidan) and Shepard transitioned pre-Alliance. 
> 
> Interesting particulars of the universe:  
> -Box: a magical transition machine! originally from the turians, all of the human ones were destroyed in the Purge, the remaining one was with Cerberus, located on Palaven, until Shepard.  
> -Binary Legalities: these nasty transphobic laws that were put into affect before Shepard was born, basically makes it illegal to be trans  
> -The Purge: what it sounds like, the legalised genocide of trans people that happened after the Binary Legalities were put in place. This needs an entire essay, not a blurb.  
> This isn't necessary for the story, it just might help a bit?
> 
> Quotes are from the poem "Ithaka" by Constantine Cavafy, there has to be poetry, this is Ashley we're talking about.

Dear Ashley,

 

I know we’re not really on the best terms at the moment, but I want to make sure you hear this from me, not some article on the extranet or a news point on Omega or something. 

You’re still my crew. I still care. 

You were always right. Cerberus can’t be trusted. I don’t blame your coldness on Horizon. It hurt, of course, but I understand it. Now that the Collector base is destroyed, I have no more need for terrorists. I hope that news may help you accept the next part of this email.

This is supposed to be easier in writing, dammit.

I’m trans. You know, the people they always warned us about in school. The people the Binary Legalities is supposed to protect us from. You may be young enough to have missed the Purge, but I’m sure you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I’ve been boxed. My parents and doctors decided I was male. I’ve never been a man, and I was lucky enough to get to Palaven and be boxed before joining the Alliance. 

I know you’ve been taught your whole life that trans people are dangerous, that it’s a sick disease of brainwashing, that trans people don’t actually know what’s good for them, that the Box is a form of self-harm. I’m asking you, begging you to reconsider.

For some people, it is impossible to live as our assigned gender. There’s no addiction, or brainwashing, or self-hate. It’s not a cult. It’s simply survival. Please, try to question what you’ve been taught and realize how much of it comes from fear and hatred. Some famous person* once said that history is always written by the winners. This holds even in now (I’m sure the protheans would agree). 

The reapers are coming, but in the meantime, there’s another war to be fought. If anyone can start changing public opinion on trans identities, it has to be the first human spectre, someone that people might actually listen to (but you know the politicians I’m working with, there’s little hope for any kind of change). 

And, I hope, that just maybe, when the reapers do come, you might be fighting by my side again. I miss that.

 

-Commander Jennifer Shepard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Winston Churchill


	2. As you set out for Ithaka...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for slight mentions of transphobia, and lots of alcohol and language.
> 
> also, I'm bad at writing drunk people, so disclaimer for poorly represented drunkenness.

### “As you set out for Ithaka/hope your journey is a long one”

“Commander Shepard is confirmed alive and has been taken into custody for involvement in terrorist activities over the past few months”.

Ashley clenched her teeth as the news played over in the elevator. She tried not to think about the commander too hard, it always made her upset. Better not to remember.

All she had to do was ignore the Omega elevators and find James Vega and get him back to the Alliance before Anderson had either of their asses.

Technically, she was over-qualified for the job, but she remembered back when James was in her unit before he got reposted, she owed it to him to save his ass, like he’d saved hers hundreds of times over. 

She hated hubs – elevators, news ports, volus trying to sell her things and Omega was a particularly grimy, unsatisfactory one. She appreciated the availability of alcohol though. 

Drink in hand, she pushed through a crowd of batarians, just in time to see James disappearing out a back door. Damn. She downed her drink and tried to make her way slightly more efficiently through the crowd. That’s what elbows were for anyways.

By the time she had gotten out the door, James was just a tiny pinpoint at the end of a hallway, she pushed herself to run.

“James Vega, dammit, stop,” she called out, hoping he’d hear. The pinpoint paused for a moment before continuing its journey.

She had never had so many sacrilegious words in her head at once. There was something about James that did that to her, even back when she actually cared about such things, before she lost her ability to believe in a god that would allow the collectors to take entire human colonies. 

Well, she hadn’t been promoted for nothing, and she wasn’t just doing this grunt task for a fun time. She sprinted down the hall and caught him, pulling him back a little too hard before he turned down a different corridor.

“What the hell?” he turned on her, all semblance of nonchalance gone (always a good soldier, even after disappearing.)

For Ashley, James meant safety, he meant a time when her only worry was her lack of promotion, back before she lost her entire squad, back before she lost Shepard (but she didn’t think about Shepard), back before she lost Horizon. 

He looked older, tired, but this was still James. Some things weren’t lost yet. She smiled.

“It’s good to see you too”

 

She had a feeling that this was not the kind of bar she would be in if she was still with Shepard. It was small, dirty, and filled with batarians. 

But there was good alcohol and quiet corners where no one could bother them while they tried to hash out the past years. 

James was clearly drunk, she probably was too, but it was hard to tell. She knocked back another shot for good measure. 

“So Anderson wants me back,” James matched her shot, “why the hell would he want that?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Ashley shrugged, “I just follow orders”.  
“You’re a bit high in the chain of command to follow orders like this,” he eyed her, “didn’t think anyone in the Alliance could boss one of Shepard’s squad”.

Ashley took another shot in an attempt to cleanse her brain of memories. 

“Let’s just say I’m doing this for a friend,” she ignored his second comment.

“Which friend?”

“Who do you think?” she wanted to shout at his stupid face, “certainly not the one I served with for years before he got reposted to Kepler, certainly not the one that used to cover for me when I had to go see my sisters, or stupidly got drunk like this”.

She dimly realized that she was drinking on the job and hoped that Anderson would understand. 

He broke eye contact and stared at some distant point on the wall.

“If you’re really my friend, you’ll just leave,” he mumbled. What the hell had happened to the enthusiastic soldier?

“Why?” Ashley couldn’t let him get off this easily.

“I fucked up,” he muttered, “I failed, I fucked up, and a bunch of people are dead because of that. The last thing the Alliance needs is someone like me.”

Ashley could still clearly remember that evening on Eden Prime when her unit was ambushed and wiped out, that same feeling of failure and helplessness. 

“Everyone messes up,” she tried, “we move on, stronger than before, it doesn’t happen again”.

“Sounds like you’ve been in the poetry again,” James broke the mood (of course, some things never changed).

“Person I learned that from wasn’t a poet,” this was breaking dangerously close to the memories that she didn’t look at, “she was a marine, just like us”.

“So you’re allowed to make mistakes if you serve with the great Commander Shepard,” James muttered, glaring at his empty glass, “what’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Serving with a hero”.

“Shepard’s not a hero,” Ashley responded reflexively with her own internal thoughts before she could control herself, “she’s probably messed up more than every other marine in the Alliance combined”.

“Oh yeah, all that weird shit with the Box,” James smiled angrily at the glass before turning to her, “you consider that a mistake?”

And that was certainly over the careful line Ashley had drawn in her mind. The letter Shepard had sent Ashley sat hidden in her locker. Shepard wanted her to question her beliefs in the universe, everyone else wanted her to question Shepard, Ashley refused to do either.

“I’d consider fighting for a terrorist organisation a mistake,” she remarked, ignoring the actual question.

“But that’s not why they arrested her,” he flicked at his glass, it pinged gently, “so the Alliance doesn’t see it as a mistake”.

“Yeah, it is,” Ashley wrinkled her brow in confusion. That’s exactly what the elevator had said when she had landed on Omega. 

“Oh, it’s just the excuse,” James rolled his eyes, “they arrested her because they needed her to shut up before people realized the binary legalities were crap. She’s trans, that’s the only mistake she’s made according to them. Do you agree with that?”

Oh. 

Ashley suddenly had an urge to reread the letter. She’d never thought about that, too caught up in her own anger about their meeting on Horizon and the fear that came with realizing that she was almost accepting of a trans person.

But the Alliance was dirty, just as much as Cerberus. She’d just been too blind to see.

“I…don’t know,” she admitted, refilling her glass.

“Get over yourself Ashley,” he rolled his eyes, “your morals aren’t the only ones out there”.

“Why do you call me that?” she asked the question before realizing she might not want to know the answer.

“Call you what?” he did look genuinely confused.

“You give everyone else nicknames,” she shrugged, “but you still call me Ashley”.

“Oh, I use nicknames to remember people,” he shrugged, “I don’t need help remembering you”.

“So, I’m special?” this could be either a good or a bad thing.  
He rolled his eyes, “You seriously need to get over yourself”.

“and you should probably do the same and come back to the Alliance,” Ashley tried to get the conversation back onto safer ground, back to the mission, she could do that. 

James tensed and she realized that that was probably the worst thing she could have said, so she poured him another drink to match her own. 

“So you’re willing to discuss Shepard and trans people, but not your career,” she commented, suddenly realizing how much younger he was, how much he didn’t know.

“Something like that, yeah,” he grabbed at the drink and downed it (Ashley was impressed).

James probably wouldn’t come back, at least not this time. But he was still a friend, and he was hurt, and maybe, she’d find a way to help him.

“Then tell me about that”.

And so he talked – told her about dating a drag queen, how the Alliance assumed any “crossdressing” meant the person was trans, told her about nearly losing his boyfriend to the law, and then losing him to Cerberus instead, told her how Cerberus was a place of safety for refugees of the Binary Legalities, told her how he had believed that the “trans people” the Alliance warned about were just drag queens, until Shepard had come out, and Ashley’s world suddenly revolved, and went back in motion.

The mission wasn’t finished when she left James, but she knew it would be successful. 

Back on her assigned ship, she reached into her locker and pulled out the letter from Shepard. It was time to move forward.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of time jumping, I hope it's not too confusing. 
> 
> trigger warning on transphobia

### “as long as you keep your thoughts raised high/as long as a rare excitement/stirs your spirit and your body”

“You know the commander?” it was a jibe, really, reference to the last time they had talked. Everyone knew Ashley had served with Shepard, especially James.

It was good to see him back. 

“I used to,” that was close enough. Even after she had read and reread and reread again that letter, she had not been prepared to see Shepard. It was a different person, harder, angrier, even more stubborn than before.

Ashley had no idea who this person was, and she was willing to follow her all the same. She was still Shepard.

“And you will again,” James grinned at her, “she’s pretty badass, even without a gun”.

Ashley barked out a laugh, “I can see you’ve made good use of your time here”.

He rolled his eyes, “Guarding an unarmed prisoner is so much work”.

She was about to retort, tell him to do his job or something, when the entire building shook. She could almost hear Shepard yelling at everyone to run (though logically, she knew the walls to the council chamber were soundproof).

“We have to get to the Normandy,” she decided, turning to James.

“The what? why?” he looked at her in confusion.

She sighed in exasperation, the newcomer didn’t quite know his shit yet.

“Shepard’s ship,” she explained, willing him to start running, “in the air. now”.

Finally, he went from confused walk to run, “you think this is the reapers?”

They raced out a door and the sky was filled with a giant reaper, so she figured that didn’t need a reply.

Instead she pulled up her omnitool and called Joker.

“You are so lucky I’m already on the Normandy, and that I’m willing to forgive you for being an ass”. 

Ashley grinned at her omnitool for a minute (how had she not realized how much she missed this?)

“Missed you too Joker,” she laughed, “we’ll be there shortly, maybe we’ll even know where Shepard is by then”.

“I could just fly around in circles hoping that reaper doesn’t destroy us until she flies a mako up to the hatch”.

Ashley laughed and disconnected. James gave her a weird look.

“It will feel normal in a few days,” she tried to reassure him. His eyes bugged out.

“Last time I did this, it was a lot less legal,” Ashley hoped that might help him relax, but he still looked pretty uncomfortable.

“So, you’re just half stealing a ship without waiting for orders and this is more legal than the last time you did that?” he finally spoke, “Jesus, what are you people?”

“I told you Shepard made mistakes,” she grinned at him.

“And you’re ok with just disobeying orders like that?”

“Well, according to the people giving the orders, our biggest mistake is allowing a trans person in a position of power, so I think we’re ok”. 

He finally grinned back at her, as the Normandy (SR-2) came into view. 

*

“So, second human spectre, how does it feel?” 

Ashley grinned back at James from the bed. 

“Currently, as if someone’s slicing a knife through my gut,” she answered truthfully (everything hurt now, but the doctors said she would recover), “I think the whole honor and amazement thing will come when I’m upright”.

His returning smile was a little awkward. She was used to it by now, no one really knew what to say to her anymore, how to respond when she pointed out that she was injured and basically incapacitated for at least another month or so.

“I’m glad you’re not dead Ash,” he settled himself into the chair next to the bed.

She snorted (and ignored the subsequent pain), “me too, it sounds even more boring than here”.

“Why don’t you break out then?” 

“You might have to carry me,” she raised her eyebrows at him, “all those muscles have to be good for something”.

“Well, that is slightly awkward,” he leaned back a bit, good, he was relaxing, “maybe wait a week or two before trying the great escape”.

“In the meantime, you could tell me what you’re up to,” she jumped on the chance to change the conversation, “it’s probably a lot more exciting than lying in this room and getting prodded around by doctors”.

“We went to Palaven to pick up some primarch,” James shrugged, “ran into one of Lola’s old turian buddies, so we picked him up too…good sniper”.

Garrus was back? Ashley would have to pass on a message demanding he come see her. He was a good one.

But also, “Shepard gets a nickname?”

“Yup, she’s Lola,” James shrugged, “looks like one, too”.

“It’s frightening how right you are,” Ashley could imagine James yelling Lola across the mess hall and Shepard actually responding (it was almost better than Jennifer). 

“It’s not what I expected really,” he continued, “she was always my hero, some great unattainable goal and now she spars with me and laughs at my nicknames…”

“Yeah, Shepard’s like that,” Ashley wished she could explain exactly what she meant, “if she could befriend the entire galaxy, she probably would”.

“I still haven’t gotten used to it,” he shook his head, “you said that would happen”.

Ashley smirked, “give it time”.

 

Garrus and Tali came to visit her together…kind of. 

Ashley watched out the window as they walked into the waiting room at the same time, saw the other and both turned to leave. 

They had been dating the last time she had checked. Was it a bad break-up?

She closed her eyes and prepared to do more apologies and catch ups (she had already done so many with so many people, damn Shepard pulling her back into her orbit, it wasn’t almost frightening how much she was willing to do for Shepard).

Almost half an hour passed before the door opened and the two walked in.

“Took you long enough,” she raised her eyebrows at them and motioned at the window.

Tali shifted uncomfortably, but Garrus just laughed (she had always spent more comfortable with Garrus, simply because most of what Tali said about engines and tech never made sense. Garrus was an annoying older brother, Tali was an awkward younger sister). 

“It’s been a hell of a day,” he responded and entered the room, leaving Tali hovering at the door “how about you?”

“I could say the same, but it would be a lie,” Ashley tried not to sound too petty, she should be thankful for her life. That didn’t mean she didn’t she want to be out of this damn bed though. 

“At least you’re back with us now, and not just the Alliance,” Garrus’ mandibles flared in pleasure (she hadn’t seen a turian face in so long, it was almost strange).

“I just have a thing against terrorists, not you,” she took a deep breath, here goes, “I’m…sorry..for not being there last time, with the collectors. I should have had your back…like always”.

“Cerberus is full of bosh’tets,” Tali finally spoke up from the doorway, she seemed angry, tense, “I should have joined you”.

“Tali,” Garrus growled quietly.

“It’s only the truth, Garrus,” Tali’s voice was angry, cutting. He sighed.

“Hey, if this is relationship drama, take all the time in the world to sort it out outside of this room,” Ashley interjected pointedly (she hated relationships and drama, her sisters had enough of it, and it was a constant reminder of how her lack of relationships suggested that there was probably something wrong with her, easier to ignore).

The two shared a glance and, finally, nodded to each other.

“Sorry Ash, it’s just a bit tense right now,” Garrus turned back to her, “it’s just…Tali’s not really with us anymore”.

“Why are you here then?”

“I’m an admiral for the migrant fleet now,” Tali finally entered the room, “I had to meet with the council this morning and, well, you’re still my friend”.

Ashley could feel the hostility coming off of Garrus by the end of her comment physically.

“Ok, I lied,” she decided, “please explain what the hell happened to you two because I’m starting to think I missed more than I thought”.

Garrus’ mandibles fluttered.

“Oh come off it, Garrus,” Tali almost sounded like it was the old days, “we were dating the last time we saw her”.

“Oh yeah,” he breathed quietly, mandibles stilling closed in (upset).

“Well, I’ve gotten that you broke up,” Ashley tried to keep the tension between the other two away from her (why had they come at all? why hadn’t they come one at a time or something?), “and that it was probably messy”.

“Yeah, that happened twice,” Garrus obviously seemed uncomfortable, “kind of…it’s complicated”.

“Yeah, I got that much,” Ashley was getting impatient.

“Ok, short version,” Tali cut in, “Shepard’s obviously sick and confused and needs help and this bosh’tet would prefer to protect his new girlfriend than realize that humans aren’t turians”.

Oh. um. oh?

Ashley did not know where to start.

“Well, we all know Shepard’s sick and confused,” Ashley tried, ignoring how Garrus stiffened, “but you went into that collector base with her, so what’s the new thing?”

She had a pretty good idea, but she could hear James’ voice in her mind, reminding her about the Purge, how there had been a genocide justified by these notions. Ashley couldn’t say she had quite confronted herself about it, or even discussed it with Shepard (but the letter was tucked in her pocket), but she’d defend Shepard’s right to exist to the grave. Maybe that was all she needed to know about her loyalties. 

“Oh, you know what I’m talking about,” Tali spat out in exasperation.

“I want to hear you say it,” she grinned back and Garrus finally relaxed (he shouldn’t, Ashley certainly had questions for him too…girlfriend???)

“She’s…sick,” Tali floundered, Ashley raised her eyebrows. Could she really not say it?

“She thinks she’s the wrong gender,” Tali finally managed to get out.

“But you’re still referring to her as ‘she’,” Ashley couldn’t help but be amused, “and I’m pretty sure she identifies as female”.

“It’s just what I’m used to,” Tali spoke darkly, “and she’s boxed, there’s no hope for her”.

Ashley wanted to laugh at how ludicrous this was. She had respected Tali, admired her even. But this, this was as bad as her old history textbook. 

“So, because Garrus disagrees with you, you two now hate each other?”

“We agreed to put aside our differences to visit you,” Garrus interjected.

This time Ashley did laugh, “This is ridiculous”.

They glared at her.

“There, you finally agree on something,” Ashley got out between laughs, “you both want to cut my throat for laughing right now”. 

Garrus joined in first and then Tali and they were just three random people laughing their heads off in a hospital room (she really hoped her doctors weren’t watching). 

It was fine after that – they swapped stories and memories. She learned about the people who had joined them in the collector base (“Bet you miss Miranda, don’t you Garrus?” “Shut up, I’m sure you miss guy stalking with Kasumi and pretending to hate Legion” “I never hated Legion” “and Miranda never hated Jack, so shut up and go back to telling Ash about climbing around collector vents” “it was hot”).

She found herself drifting off as they talked, being awake took too much energy. The voices around her quieted and then stopped.

“We’re going now, Ash,” Garrus broke into her dream, “you rest up and take care now, right?”

“Of course,” she mumbled, and then realized she hadn’t said the most important thing.

“Tali,” she opened her eyes hurriedly.

“Yeah?” the quarian turned back in the doorway.

“Give Shepard a chance,” she grasped at her consciousness, “I know I regret not doing it sooner”.

Tali nodded once, “I’ll think about it”.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for internalized acephobia and arophobia (maybe I should just shove all these warnings at the beginning because they tend to be recurring themes)

### “May there be many a summer morning when/with what pleasure, what joy/you come into harbors seen for the first time”

She knew it was technically a structural weakness, but she liked the observation deck. There was something brilliant about being able to sit and look at the expanse of stars. She spent so much time in space that she often forgot what it looked like.

She heard the door whoosh open. 

“I know what kind of welcome gift that is and I don’t want it,” she knew James meant well, but she had no interest in getting drunk her first night back.

A voice that most certainly wasn’t James responded, “Well, next time I’ll remember the gift.”

Oh.

She turned around to face Shepard.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I...um…thought you were James”.

“And I thank you for warning me not to accept gifts from him,” Shepard laughed, “no Mr. Vega then?”

“Well, I called him James back when he was in my unit on Eden Prime…before the beacon was uncovered,” Ashley tried to explain, “I guess he’s Vega now, old habits die hard”.

“So you two knew each other all along and never told me,” Shepard grinned, “tricksters”.

“By the time I could, I was in a hospital, ma’am,” Ashley grinned back, “it was a bit of a distraction”.

“I’ll accept that excuse,” Shepard sat down on the couch and turned to face Ashley, “I figured we probably had some things to talk about”. 

Ashley’s heart jumped into her throat, “define things”. Was Shepard going to try to discuss Horizon? Would she have to apologise again for being an ass? Was she worried about her health? Would Shepard keep her off duty?

Shepard shifted uncomfortably.

“We just left a lot of things unsaid,” Shepard muttered, starting out the window, “I figured that if there’s anything you need to say, it’s better to get it out in the open now”.

Oh. 

There it was again, the fact that no one could use the T word even though it hung like a rain cloud over everything that Shepard did nowadays. Even Shepard had to sit there, terrified that a member of her crew might _need_ to say offensive things at her. 

She hated the world that made this happen and she hated her younger self that thought this was ok, natural even. And she thanked James…Vega for the moment when he had made her start questioning it. 

“I got your letter,” she started, “I’m sorry I never replied…I, um, had a lot to think about”.

“I can imagine,” Shepard murmured, still staring at the stars.

Ashley didn’t want to do this. She didn’t know the right words. She should have listened better.

“I’m done thinking now,” Ashley finally tried, “You’re right. History is written by the winners, the people who taught me may have won some legal battle or whatever, but that doesn’t mean they’re right”.

She took a deep breath.

“I can’t say I understand a thing about this trans…gender thing,”she hated skipping over words, “but there was a legal, unchallenged genocide, and the politicians are up to their head in bullshit, so I’d rather stand by you”.

Shepard was the only thing she could believe in anymore. The Reapers had killed God a long time ago. 

“You don’t have any questions?” Shepard finally turned back to face her, perfectly composed (what a miracle of a leader).

“Only one, skipper,” she grinned back at Shepard.

“What’s that?” Shepard still looked wary. 

“If you could choose your name, why isn’t it Lola?”

And finally, Shepard grinned back, “I don’t think Vega would ever get over himself if I did that”.

“Oh, and is it true you’re dating Garrus now?” Ashley had to admit the curiousity was eating at her. Obviously, it was true, Garrus had said so, but still, what did it mean? A human dating a turian? How did it work?

“Yes,” Shepard looked confused, “but I’m not sure if that has anything to do with the conversation”.

“No, I’m just curious, ma’am,” the polite commander-chief relationship between them had all but disintegrated a long time ago but sometimes it was fun to pull it back up for old time’s sake, “he and Tali came to visit me in Huerta”.

Shepard’s mouth rounded slightly in surprise, “together?”

“I think that part was an accident,” Ashley tried to hide how upset she was over the tense relationships, these people had been her unit at one point. 

Shepard grimaced and they sat in silence staring out at the stars. 

“I just hate how everyone’s changed,” Ashley finally broke in, “they’re just old and angry now, James…Vega’s old and angry, you’re old and angry…we used to be such idealists”.

“You’re old and angry,” Shepard raised her eyebrows, “bet you get nightmares too.”

Ashley did not want to think about those. A part of her would never leave Virmire, it’s where she died after all. She didn’t want to visit that more than she had to.

“That’s why drinking with Vega is actually beginning to sound like a good idea,” she grumbled (at least when she passed out drunk there were no dreams). 

Shepard turned to look at her and started doing that thing she did where she could just read whoever was in front of her. Ashley hated when she aimed that look at her, it was unfair coming from a commander that asked too many questions and never gave any answers.

“You don’t date,” Shepard finally concluded, “Everyone on this ship has someone, except for you”. 

“I’ve got a lot of people,” the excuse she gave herself sounded hollow out loud, “friends are everything, I don’t want to limit myself to just one…Liara doesn’t have anyone either, why don’t you go interrogate her?”

“Liara does have somebody,” Shepard countered, “and you’re the one I’m talking to right now”.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Ashley did not want to have this conversation, “that I have some secret boyfriend hidden under the couch that no one, not even myself, knows about?”

Shepard rolled her eyes.

The thing was, Ashley had never quite understood the relationship thing. She had friends and family, people she’d tear the galaxy apart for – why did she need some special romantic partner? She had sex with friends that were attractive, she had sex with attractive strangers, she didn’t need one special person for all of her love and sex and whatever. 

And her lack of understanding was terrifying – what was wrong with her? What did everyone else have that she didn’t?

“Friend of mine, ex-Cerberus operative was a bit like you,” Shepard seemed to smile at the memory, “not really, she did have a boyfriend, of sorts, but she didn’t really get the point of a lot of relationship stuff. She called it asexuality, a lack of sexual attraction”.

“Well, don’t worry, I don’t have that disease,” Ashley really wanted a drink right now, “sex drive is all in order”.

But she didn’t get the point of relationships, wasn’t that what it was?

Shepard rolled her eyes again, “It’s not a disease, it’s an orientation, like gay, straight, bi…”

“Ok, I get it,” Ashley shrugged, “nothing wrong with not having sex, but that’s not me commander, and quite simply, I don’t see why I should have to discuss my sex life or relationships with you, so can this conversation stop now?” 

There was a word that could have made her all right and she wasn’t even that. Ashley wanted to scream at the universe. 

Shepard nodded once, “Sorry I brought it up”.

Ashley shrugged, “No harm done, ma’am”. 

It was a lie, but it wasn’t Shepard’s fault that something was wrong with Ashley. This could be forgiven. 

Shepard stood up, “I guess I’ll leave you to the stars then, there must be someone else for me to harass”.

Ashley tried smiling back at her, but she had a feeling it was a little thin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> same warnings as before - alcohol, internalized acephobia and arophobia, now with mentions with ableism

### “and may you visit many Egyption cities/to gather stores of knowledge from their scholars”

“Nice ring Vega.” Shepard’s voice carried over to the mess hall from the elevator.

Ashley sat in the mess hall with her wine and hoped that it would be Vega and not Shepard to round the corner and catch her drinking. 

They were cool, really. Ashley couldn’t blame Shepard for making assumptions. Shepard could certainly blame Ashley for being an ass, so it wasn’t like the conversation from the day before was that important.

Still, Ashley didn’t really want her commanding officer to turn a corner and catch her drinking heavily at eight am (Kaidan had been in her dream last night, alcohol was the only solution). 

“Um, thanks?” Vega sounded uncertain, scared even.

“My old XO had one just like it,” Shepard continued, “I’m sure she’d like help in plotting eventual rule over the galaxy, though her girlfriend might have that one covered”.

“We’re not all that power hungry, ma’am,” Vega’s voice relaxed, there seemed to be a smile in it, “I’m sticking with common foot soldier”.

Shepard laughed at that and then it stopped abruptly.

“Look, Vega,” her voice was suddenly quiet, “I got the correspondence from Alliance command”.

“Ah shit,” he sounded terrified, what had happened?

“You’re not leaving this ship without my permission,” Shepard clearly did not seem to understand that whispering was generally supposed to be quiet enough that eavesdroppers couldn’t hear, “and I most certainly do not give my permission, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ashley could hear the solute in his voice. He probably was actually saluting, still a well-trained soldier after everything (“it shows respect, Ashley” “do you think the reapers will care how we show respect?”)

 

Thankfully, it was Vega that turned the corner and plopped down across from her with a wine glass. He started pouring himself a drink from her bottle.

Ashley considered protesting and then realized how often she taken drinks off of him and decided it was fair.

“Bad night if you’re drinking this early,” he commented, after chugging his glass (wine was supposed to be drunk slowly, it was almost terrifying to watch his speed drinking).

“Could say the same to you”.

“Yup,” he nodded and poured another glass.

“Heard your conversation with the commander,” Ashley started, “you thinking about leaving us?”

“She really needs to keep her voice down,” Vega grumbled, taking his second glass a little slower. 

Ashley smirked and continued to look at him expectantly. This was important – why would Vega ever want to leave? Was like their meeting on Omega all over again?

“Alliance command declared me unfit for duty,” he kept sipping at the wine, “got a psych evaluation when…I left, apparently there’s…a few too many marks against me”.

Ashley raised her eyebrows, “That’s bullshit. When I was diagnosed with PTSD, they sent me off to Horizon to protect an entire colony from collectors, that’s bullshit”. Big help that psych evaluation had been. She wasn’t quite sure why she had bothered in the first place.

“Well, then this wouldn’t have been a problem if I’d actually kept my hands quiet for once, then,” Vega sighed.

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that Ashley remembered what he was referring to. Back when they first met, James had had the most expressive hands. They didn’t always correlate with what he was saying, it was more like they added to it. They flapped when he was excited, tapped when he was nervous, tensed when he was angry. His hands easier to understand than his face or his voice, if you knew how to read it. Ashley had loved how involved he would get with what he was saying until he ran out of words and made a giant emphatic gesture (and she would understand). 

But commanding officers had hated it. “Quiet hands, Vega!” had pretty much been the only thing the unit ever heard (until Ashley was in charge and had better things to worry about).   
He didn’t do that now. Sometimes his fingers would twitch, but that was all.

It was weird that she hadn’t thought about it before. Maybe that’s why James seemed so subdued, his hands weren’t talking anymore. Ashley suddenly felt it as a loss. People were changing so much when she wasn’t looking.

“Hands get you in trouble, now?” Ashley had a hard time following the logic.

“No, um, it’s just how the shrink, you know…figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” 

He poured another drink.

“Nevermind,” Ashley shrugged, “I don’t really need to know”.

It was a lie. She wanted to know what it would take for the Alliance to deem someone unfit for service in the middle of a desperate war for the galaxy, but he seemed scared. She could always find out in other ways. 

“What about that ring then?” she changed conversation, “Secret cult trying to rule the galaxy”.

James put down his glass and grinned, good. 

“No, it’s just a…symbol, of sorts,” he twisted it around his finger. It didn’t seem like much, a simple black ring around his middle finger, but it had been enough to draw Shepard’s attention, so, probably ridiculously important or absolutely stupid. 

“For galaxy ruling?”

“Nope,” this time he laughed, before stopping and taking a deep breath, “I’m asexual”. 

Ashley didn’t want to go there again. It was still too soon.

“Like, no sexual attraction?” she tried to remember what Shepard had said, even though it was easier to forget. 

“Yeah, basically,” he kept twisting the ring around his finger.

“So…no relationships?” Ashley desperately wanted to know and didn’t ever want to find out.

James rolled his eyes, “Sexual and romantic attraction are different, and so is interest in sex. I’ve had partners, I sleep with people…I’m just not sexually attracted to them”.

“Romantic attraction?” Ashley could feel her mind making connections and willed it to stop.

“Yeah, I don’t know how to describe it, like romance and lovey dovey stuff and shit,” he shook his head, “that doesn’t explain anything, I know”.

And there it was, the question she had to ask that she didn’t want the answer to. 

“Are there a…romantic people too?”

James shrugged, “Sure, loads, just not me”.

“And there’s nothing wrong with them?”

He finally seemed to realize that this had stopped being a simple chat a long time ago. He looked at her seriously for a minute before responding.

“There’s so many ways to love and so many different relationships and attractions in this world, there’s nothing wrong with not experiencing one, no one could actually try them all”.

Oh.

There was not enough alcohol on the entire Normandy to properly respond to this. 

“Think we could get leave on the Citadel today?” Ashley glared at the nearly empty bottle of wine. 

“Considering that we’re almost at the Migrant Fleet, I doubt it,” James grimaced, “Why?”

Because she had spent her entire life thinking that there was a broken part of her only to discover that it might be completely fine?

She shrugged, “Last night was bad”.

James poured out the last of the wine into the glasses and clinked his against Ashley’s.

“See something, say nothing, and drink to forget*” he remarked solemnly.

“What the fuck does that mean?” 

“It’s from some twenty first century cult thing, don’t ask”

They finished the wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *from Welcome to Night Vale, sorry, I couldn't resist


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (in me1, Ashley and Tali was my powerful girl squad, we were awesome and badass)
> 
> the purpose of this chapter is mainly to just include Legion because Legion must be in everything I write because Legion is Legion. besides this, it's a pretty pointless chapter, but LEGION.

### “Keep Ithaka always in your mind/Arriving there is what you are destined for”

Tali found her passed out on the couch.

“You’re a terrible soldier, Williams”, she shook her head and sat down across from her, “do you even train anymore?”

“I work out when I don’t feel like crap,” Ashley muttered, but it probably came out sounding garbled.

“Well, maybe if you saved getting drunk for special occasions this wouldn’t be a problem”. 

“This is a special occasion,” Ashley grumbled, willing Tali to go away and stop making her feel guilty. 

“What…?” Tali started and then stopped, shaking her head, “Nevermind, I don’t really want to know”.

What to know what? Ashley’s mind could not follow what was going on, the quarian was too damned clever.

“I just want you to know I’m taking your advice,” this sounded important, Ashley tried to pay attention, “I’m giving Shepard a second chance. Maybe it’s stupid, I don’t know, I just can’t accept that the Shepard I know would ever do anything this sick”.

Oh, Ashley finally caught on to what was happening and forced herself to sit up and ignore the headache.

“Maybe it’s not that sick,” she tried to speak clearly. Why the hell was it so bright?

Tali nodded, “Or maybe it’s only right for Shepard”.

“She’s certainly one of a kind,” Ashley had to concede and nodded her head to look more profound. 

“Anyways, we’re boarding a geth dreadnought soon, you might want to be a little bit more together,” Tali stood.

“We are?”

“Yes,” Tali sighed impatiently, “Shepard wants you as second. I could always claim you had gotten dreadfully ill, if you want”.

“No, no, it’s all right,” Ashley forced herself not to have a headache, “I’ll be in the cargo bay in five”. Shepard wanted her, she would come, no matter what. 

“Glad to hear it,” Tali waltzed out, flicking on the light. 

Ouch. 

 

It was a successful enough mission.

The geth driving the shuttle thing was a bit…creepy, but Tali seemed ok with it and, if a quarian was ok with a geth, the geth was probably ok. At least, that’s what Ashley tried to tell herself. It was still nerve-racking though.

But the geth clearly seemed to be just a much of a Shepard fanboy as everyone else – what with the N7 armor and all.

Ashley had no idea geth could be fanboys until now. (fangirls? fanmachines? what the hell were geth?).

Garrus met them on the cargo bay, stormed onto the ship and practically ripped Shepard out of her seat. The commander accepted it strangely quietly, letting him shove her out the ship door. 

Ashley heard him mutter, “Not again,” as he marched Shepard out.

“Vakarian, Garrus,” the geth in the front seat turned around.

“Spirits,” Garrus jumped and turned around, letting go of Shepard, “Legion!”

So everyone knew the geth? Ashley tried to smosh the distrust in her stomach, She had to trust Shepard on this one (like everything else, really). 

“Would it not be more efficient to open the door and wait for Shepard-Commander to leave?” the geth’s flashlight bobbed slightly, it was adorable…almost.  
“Trust me, Legion, Garrus is the most inefficient organic I’ve ever met,” Tali grumbled and shoved Garrus out of the door so she could leave the ship, Ashley followed, trying not to feel nervous about turning her back to a geth. Legion. whatever. 

“Hackett’s on the comm,” Shepard shouted from the other side of the bay, “we can talk when you’re calmer and not trying to manhandle me”.

She disappeared around the corner.

At least Garrus had enough integrity to look guilty. 

“What the hell was that?” Tali was able to react a lot quicker than Ashley, “you’re the one who’s always talking about respecting Shepard and then act as if she’s your property”.

“Men,” Ashley snorted. 

“It was good to have the girl squad back,” Tali’s voice smiled. 

“Girl squad protects each other,” Ashley smiled back, remembering how ridiculous they used to be on missions, “so, Garrus, I think you need to explain yourself”.

Legion’s head turned to face them from the doorway of the ship, “girl squad?”

Tali laughed, “I guess you count, come on”. The geth took awkward steps to enjoy their circle. Ashley tried to relaxed.

As all eyes turned to Garrus, he slumped. For a minute, Ashley’s shock and anger was erased with pity. Of all the people from the first Normandy, he seemed like the one most changed, broken even. 

“She’s drinking,” Garrus sighed, “goes and gets herself drunk before every mission. I just…I want it to stop”.

Shepard had been drunk? Well, that would certainly explain some of the friendly fire, but Shepard had always been a little lenient on aim, it hadn’t seemed out of place to Ashley.

“Why?” Tali’s voice was small, horrified, still so innocent after everything.

Ashley knew why, “Nightmares, guilt, anxiety, shit that you can never leave…”

Garrus eyed her levelly and she willed him not to know that she had gone into the mission with a raging hangover.

“Sounds very human,” Tali’s voice was dry.

“Well, nightmares, yeah, turians don’t dream” Garrus’ voice was barely audible, “guess that’s why she doesn’t sleep anymore”.

Commander Shepard was the one who kept going no matter what.

If she couldn’t keep going anymore, then they were all doomed. 

Ashley could feel her entire world pressing down and consuming her. 

“Shepard-Commander goes into statistically probable death 3.17 times a day, rounded down,” Legion’s voice cut into the discussion, “at such high numbers, alcohol will not change the likelihood to a significant degree”.

“Thanks Legion, I know that’s supposed to make me feel better,” Garrus put his head in his hands.

For some reason, it did make Ashley feel better. What they did was so dangerous that alcohol poisoning was barely a risk any more. It probably should scare her, but she was beyond that. 

“I only calculated a 47% chance that it would comfort you,” the geth swivelled it’s head, “but a 93% chance it would comfort Creator-Zorah and an 84% chance that Creator-Zorah will then be able to comfort you”.

“You missed some things, Legion,” Tali sighed, “I don’t think I can comfort Garrus anymore”.

The organics shifted awkwardly while Legion cocked his head and stared at the two.

“This was not a statistically probably outcome,” it finally responded, “I do not know how to manipulate Vakarian-Garrus’ emotions at this time”.

“That must have been hell to admit,” Ashley smirked, “a geth not knowing something”.

“And I’m so pleased to know this one’s trying to manipulate my emotions,” Garrus grumbled.

“Come on Legion,” Tali turned, “I have a question for you about the engine, you can stop letting Garrus treat you like a hanar”.

Ashley stared at their disappearing shapes bug-eyed, “She lets it near the engine?”

Garrus’ mandibles flared and he nodded, “Legion’s pretty great, when you get over the flashlight head”.

This would take some time. 

…but hell, if a geth was willing to fight the reapers, why couldn’t it?

It wasn’t like Commander Shepard could do it anymore.

She had to believe that this was just a bump in the road, that Shepard would get better (oh how she knew that didn’t happen), and that they’d get through it together. 

And there was Garrus, who was just being a problem.

“Look Garrus,” she glared at him, “I know you mean well and all, but if you had done that to me, you’d be out the airlock”.

“Understood,” he nodded at her, “I’m an ass”.

Ashley couldn’t help but grin at the way he repeated her words from years before back at her, “Damn right you are”.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new warnings for flashbacks/ptsd (though that is also in the tag), also internalized ableism
> 
> all warnings of alcohol, arophobia etc. still exist.
> 
> I'm not sure if weights have serial number but in my mass effect universe, they do...
> 
> also, writing sexual attraction as a sex-averse asexual is an interesting experience, I apologise if it comes off horribly...consider it a learning experience on sex-averse asexualness...

### “But do not hurry the journey at all/Better if it lasts for years/so you are old by the time you reach the island”

**Aesthetic Attraction:** _Attraction to someone’s appearance_

**Affectional Orientation:** _See “Romantic Orientation”._

**Aromantic:** _A lack of romantic attraction toward any gender._

**Black Ring:** _Symbol of asexuality when worn on the right middle finger, oftentimes representative of aromanticism on the left middle finger, though this is less common_

**Romantic Attraction:** _A sense of “I would like to be involved in a romantic relationship with that person”, does not necessarily mean candlelit dinners._

**Romantic Orientation:** _the gender(s) that one experiences romantic attraction towards._

Something at the top of the page caught Ashley’s eye as she skimmed. 

**Cake:** _Better than sex._

Well, Ashley figured most people could agree with that. Cake was good. The rest was…confusing. She wanted to bang her head against her omnitool.

Sex was…well it was sex. She kind of missed it actually. She hadn’t done it since…well…since things she didn’t want to think about. 

The flashback came anyways: Kaidan’s hands around her waist. A whispered “I love you”. A bomb that needed to go off no matter what.

Maybe she needed some cake.

She’d tried to cut down on the alcohol a bit since that first mission. Her job was to protect Shepard at all costs, she couldn’t do that if she was inebriated.

It meant the flashbacks were worse and there were always nightmares, but it was worth it. The galaxy was worth it (damn the galaxy, she really wanted a gin and tonic). 

She didn’t know how to make cake, (she was a horrible cook, it was Sarah that cooked when they were younger to make sure the kitchen didn’t burn down), but the thought of it was the only thing keeping her from sinking. 

 

Which is how she found herself down in the cargo bay watching James reorder his weights.

“How exactly are you arranging them?” she couldn’t see any pattern, at least her weights would be ordered by weight.

“Serial number,” James lifted one weight, stared at the bottom and placed it next a much smaller one, “and date”.

“Why?” 

Weight serial number meant literally nothing.

He shrugged, “It feels better that way.”

“Fair enough,” Ashley couldn’t really argue with that, “are you going to make me cake now?”

“Fine, fine,” he turned around, “But you have to tell me why you want it.”

“Do I need a reason to want cake?” Ashley tried to deflect, “it’s good”.

He hesitated for a minute before reaching back to the table and grabbing the ring. 

“You keep telling yourself that, you could live in complete denial your whole life,” he shrugged again and walked passed her towards the elevator, “suit yourself”.

“I’m not living in denial,” happily, hurrying to catch up with him prevented her from stamping her foot, which would have been embarrassing.

“Tell that to somehow who isn’t baking you cake,” James punched the elevator buttons and the door closed around them. 

“Fine,” Ashley rolled her eyes, “I have a lot on my mind, cake’s a distraction, is that enough?”

Vega’s fingers started tapping against his leg. What had made that start again?

“Why are you nervous?” Ashley asked before she could stop herself.

“Why do you think I’m nervous?” the tapping stopped immediately.

“You were tapping,” Ashley gestured aimlessly towards his hands, “you do that when you’re nervous”.

“You weren’t supposed to notice that,” he mumbled, shoving his hand into a pocket. 

“Now who’s living in denial?” Ashley raised her eyebrows, “I like your hands, they tell me a lot more than you do”.

“Really?” he bounced slightly on his toes, “most people just find it annoying”.

“Then they’re idiots,” Ashley rolled her eyes, “and you better keep those hands because you might need them to make that cake”.

He mumbled something and ducked out of the elevator before she could actually catch what it was. 

There weren’t a lot of people in the mess hall at the moment, which was nice. They made their way to the kitchen and James started pulling things out of cupboards, whistling, while Ashley leaned against a counter and watched (she knew better than to offer to help).

Why was she doing this? Why was she so suddenly desperate for baked goods? Or did she just want company?

( **Aromantic:** _A romantic orientation characterized by a lack of romantic attraction towards any gender._ ) 

Was that her?

“I think I might be aromantic,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. That was the point, wasn’t it? She wanted to feel unbroken, he could do that, right? She didn’t want to be alone anymore. 

“Took you long enough,” James continued mixing whatever it was that he was mixing.

“You knew?” of course he did, god she was so stupid and transparent.

“Well, no,” he shrugged, “but if you were just plain old heterosexual heteroromantic, you would have jumped me by now. Most girls do”.

“You’re disgusting”.

“Just the truth,” he grabbed something else out of the cupboard, “I’m hot”.

Well, that was the obvious statement of the day. But that was…sexual attraction? What did it have to do with romantic attraction? It was all very confusing. “Aromantic” was just one single word in a sea of nonsense.

“Are you asexual too?” he finally turned back towards her.

“No,” she had a very clear reminder of that in front of her mixing cake batter claiming he was hot.

“Damn,” he muttered, “I owe Lola a bottle of wine”.

“Wait, you were betting on whether or not I was asexual?” Ashley gave up on actual conversation. 

“I guess it’s kind of creepy, but I figured you had to be ace”, his fingers started tapping again. 

“Wait, why?” It felt a little weird that people had been planning out her sexuality behind her back.

“You don’t have sex, you don’t show interest in anyone or anything, it wasn’t just romantic interest”.

Why had she thought cake was a good idea? It was better than sex…right.

“I don’t really do sex,” she tried to keep her voice light, “so showing interest would be pointless”. 

Only because the last time she had sex…she didn’t think about that. One flashback was enough for the day, she focused on tapping fingers as they stopped tapping and reached for the bowl of cake batter.

“But you do have interest?” James grinned as he filled the cake tin with batter.

“You’re making me feel like a middle schooler,” Ashley huffed. Yes, of course she had interest. Was he blind or something? It didn’t matter.

James didn’t reply as he shoved the cake into the oven and stood back up.

“That should be ready in about half an hour,” he leaned against the counter, almost touching her.

She considered reaching and actually touching him. But that was too much. She didn’t do that anymore. And James deserved better.

“Want to tell me about your denial then?” she forced the conversation to start again before the air got too heavy, before it felt too intimate. 

James pulled away a fraction of a millimeter, “what do you mean?”

“I told you what I was in denial about,” Ashley shrugged, “fair is fair”.

“I’m not fair,” he pushed himself off the counter. She expected him to just walk out, go back to the cargo deck and his organised weights, but he just went into the fridge and pulled out her bottle of wine. 

“You get me drunk, I’ll talk,” he handed the bottle to her, “not on my own drink though”.

“You trust me enough?” they always got drunk together, not just one of them, never enough for secrets. There were rules, boundaries he was suddenly inviting her to cross. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugged, but his fingers were tapping, even faster than before.

Ashley put the bottle down, “I won’t do that to you, either you talk or you don’t, but we drink together”. 

The tension seemed to release, but his hands kept going, Ashley thought back to the way they used to flap and wished she could get them to do that again.

“You know what?” she sighed, “Set a timer on the cake and go organise your weights by whether or not Shepard’s touched them or do pull-ups or something. I think I can sit in a kitchen and watch an oven without it blowing up…hopefully”.

He bolted.

**Quiet hands:** _command used to train children with autism to communicate with their words without distracting motions_

Oh.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a random linguistic note:
> 
> I am well aware that I am not including all the Spanish that should probably be included because Vega is Vega. Basically, as a language student, the thought of piecing together bits of wordreference and google translate for a language I only have the most basic understanding of is absolutely horrifying.  
> So, unless I can magically learn Spanish or find someone who is willing to shove Spanish into this story, it's left to the reader's imagination.
> 
> I do headcanon Ashley as 1/4 latino (Guatemalan, maybe?), so it's quite possible a lot of these conversations are actually just in Spanish...

Miranda Lawson was not what Ashley had expected. 

First off, she was hot. 

There was also the ex-Cerberus officer thing and her loyalty to Shepard (though really, what else could Ashley expect? Everyone who had met was loyal to Shepard).

And then there was the fact that she had stationed herself in the battery with Garrus. No one was allowed in there except for Shepard, except Miranda Lawson waltzed in to the Normandy to “see some old friends” before going off to save the galaxy in some way and went straight to the battery.

And Shepard seemed pleased, waved at her from the elevator and had gone up to her cabin. 

There was also the prominent black ring on her right middle finger.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, but it still meant something to Ashley. Someone who was like her…kind of sort of, the closest she could get for the time being. 

She could always ping James to play spy with her, but things between them were different between them. She knew too much without his permission.

Ashley knew it was “dangerous to the social order”, he should either be cured or in one of the autist colonies. Why the fuck would he even bother being here on the first place? And she knew she should feel more worried about it, people with autism weren’t unsafe, but they certainly didn’t belong in the army.

James Vega was one of the best soldiers she had ever met, but she certainly hated how he forced her to question _all_ of her preconceptions. (Couldn’t he just choose one to pick at?)

Ashley chose to stay on the observation deck, maybe she’d have another chance to learn more about Miranda in the next few hours before they dropped her at some secret fancy shuttle location (operatives in hiding were…complicated, soldiers just ran).

 

Just as she was opening up her worn copy of Tennyson (a proper book, a hassle, but much more poetic and sentimental than a data pad), her omnitool pinged.

_New Message from Shepard: Mandatory 48 hour shore leave on the Citadel commencing as soon as we get there (ETA 8 hours), take a break before we hit Cerberus._

Huh. She’d never known Shepard to give proper shore leave before. It generally would be more like “I have to go deal with the council, I’ll ping you when you’re done and you better get your ass back to the Normandy or we’ll leave without you”.

She wasn’t going to argue though, maybe someone had managed to get Shepard to slow down for a bit, admit that she needed a break, maybe Shepard had been replaced by an evil clone. Time on the Citadel sounded nice. She wasn’t going to pass it up.

(Unless Shepard was actually replaced by an evil clone, then she’d happily spend the rest of her life hunting down and shooting it and rescuing the real Shepard).

Her omnitool pinged again.

_New Message from James: Let’s hit a bar on this shore leave, or twenty._

_Type reply: good plan, 24 hours drunk, 24 hours asleep_

_New Message from James: doesn’t work like that LC but sure..._

_Type reply: as long as I don’t have to shoot geth on a headache, it’s a pain_

_New Message from James: I don’t want to know how you learned that._

_Type reply: ignoring your judgement…Purgatory? an hour after touchdown?_

_New Message from James: I leave on time, don’t get lost in your poems_

_Type reply: Ass._

It was easier typing into her omnitool than actually talking to him in person. She didn’t really know what to think about anything anymore. People with autism were kept separate or cured, for everyone’s benefit, but now she was choosing to spend time with one. And she found she cared a lot less than she probably should.

But was this right for James? Maybe she should suggest he look into cures (during a war? hah). Maybe it was none of her business.

No one had ever taught her how to deal with this situation because no one ever thought it could happen. Clearly, everyone in charge was an idiot. 

Fuck them. 

 

Ashley breathed a sigh of relief when it became clear that James had also bothered to put on proper clothing.

The whole choosing the right clothes ritual had swung dangerously close to what she had done for dates before joining the Alliance, but if he did it too…well, at least they were in it together. 

He whistled as she approached. 

“I still have a pistol on me,” she muttered, feeling the need to control the situation. 

“Do you seriously think the reapers will interrupt a night at a bar?” he jokingly offered her his arm and she took it, hoping that it was actually jokingly, and then realized that, in their entire friendship, they had never touched before. 

A barrier had come down and she didn’t quite know which one. 

“I hate to break it to you,” she responded, “but I don’t think the reapers take my alcoholism into account when planning their next attack”:

“Damn”

She rolled her eyes at him. 

Today was for margaritas, she had spent too much time drinking cheap space wine recently, and she had someone to get drunk with. 

They were about three drinks in when the conversation dipped and, it was as if James had gone. Physically that was impossible, and if there wasn’t alcohol in her system, she probably wouldn’t have interpreted it that way, but she was absolutely convinced, for a second, that a geth had stolen up behind him and shot out his mind. 

(As if she was staring at Kaidan).

“You wanted to know what I was in denial about,” he spoke then and she was able to pull herself back to a reality where they were in a completely geth-free bar.

“I know,” she muttered, before realizing that that was a really stupid response.

“What?” his fingers were tapping against his glass and she wanted them to just. stop. 

She wanted him to stop being nervous (but nervous tapping was faster wasn’t it? this was more thoughtful, confused).

She wanted him to stop doing something so damning in a public space.

She wanted him to stop putting himself at risk.

But they could probably take on anyone who tried to hurt him anyways, so why was she so worried?

She’d decided she didn’t care about the idiots, so why was she still embarrassed?

“It wasn’t hard with the help of the extranet,” she tried to downplay how serious this was (this wasn’t serious, was it? she was on shore leave), “why aren’t you in a colony?”

He stopped.

His body was always in motion, but now it was just…frozen.

Ashley had never seem him completely still before, it was eerie.

Shit. 

Everyone warned her that her lack of filter would get her in trouble one day. No one had bothered to mention it would entail hurting her friend, she would have paid attention then.

“Is that what you want?” his voice was hollow, not even angry.

“No,” she shook her head vigorously, “I want you here”.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend,” she needed him to understand, “a damn good one.”  
He didn’t respond. She reached out tentatively to touch his hand, hoping that barrier was still down.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I liked your hands,” she tried, “I like most things about you, really”.

And, finally, his finger twitched. 

“It doesn’t bother you?” his voice didn’t inflect the question properly, his walls were lowering.

“I think between you and Shepard and a bunch of non-humans on an Alliance ship, I gave up on bother a long time ago,” she replied as truthfully as she could, “it’s weird, yeah, but I’ve got nothing against weird”.

Before he could respond, both their omnitools pinged.

_New Message from Shepard: Squad Assemble! My place on Sunset Strip. Need help._

“Is she trying to quote the Avengers?” James wrinkled his eyebrows at his omnitool. 

“Avengers?” Ashley had no idea what he was talking about.

“Twentieth century superhero comics,” he shrugged, “They’re actually pretty good”. 

Their omnitools pinged again before Ashley could question his choice in literature.

_New Message from Shepard: Hurry. I fell through a fish tank._

They looked at each other for a moment and laughed.

“Well,” Ashley looked sadly at her unfinished fourth margarita, “so much for shore leave”.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, random long chapter, warnings for anxiety and flashbacks and some ableism...less alcohol than usual
> 
> also, tattoos and coffee

### “Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey/without her you would not have set out”

_This time, as the nightmare enfolded, Kaidan turned into James. And, instead of waking up when she normally did, the dream continued and she was running down a dark hallway after him, and Kaidan, and Miranda, and Garrus, and Sarah, and Joseph, and Melissa, and a few other figures she couldn’t name. And she couldn’t catch any of them. She couldn’t save any of them. They were all dead and it should have been her._

 

“Hey, Ashley, you have to wake up, it’s just a dream” someone was shaking her and she spluttered awake, as if she had been drowning. 

It took her a little while to figure out where she was exactly.

One of Shepard’s guest bedrooms. Oh yeah.

With James. Because they…shit.

She should have drunk more. 

If she was going to be this stupid, at least she should be allowed to forget it, right?

Her ears were roaring as she tried to battle through the chaos for something to hold onto. 

She was vaguely aware that she was sobbing and that someone was holding and rocking her gently. 

That would probably be James.  
Shit shit shit. She woke up on her own for a reason.

She forced herself to take a deep breath and look at her surroundings. The room had a private bathroom and her nakedness was the least of her worries right now. She pushed herself away and ran, slamming the bathroom door behind her and locking it before collapsing onto the cold tiled floor. 

She had had a nightmare in front of James.

She had had sex with James.

Wasn’t he asexual? Like, not interested in sex? (“Not having attraction, doesn’t mean I can’t do it, or want to”…they had actually talked about it, she had consciously let herself have sex with her friend. She had been drunk enough for that but not enough to forget. No word could properly express how she felt). 

She pushed herself off the floor, forced her breathing to calm. She would get through this, and then they’d hit the Cerberus base and finish this once and for all.

Hope of survival rang hollow. Not that it mattered anymore.

“You all right?” James called through the door, she could hear worry in his voice (but autistics didn’t inflect, right? or was that just more misinformation causing chaos in her mind).

She was a soldier, she could do better than this.

“Yeah,” she lied, “think you could pass me my clothes?”

“Yeah, no problem,” she could hear walk over to where she had dumped them the night before (happily, in one pile) and walk back.

She unlocked the door and reached out a hand. It collided with cloth, thank god (sometimes she still believed in God, when He actually pulled shit together like this).

“Thanks,” she muttered and shut the door again. 

 

He was bouncing on the bed when she finally managed to pull everything together enough to come out. There was something so honest about the motion, so open, something he would have felt the need to hide outside of that room. He trusted her so much. But she was alive because someone else was dead.

Lieutenant James Vega deserved better than a soldier that had died years ago.

“You sure you’re all right?” he glanced up at her and kept bouncing, as if to say _“You sure you’re all right with me?”_. 

Two completely different questions.

“Yeah,” Ashley sighed, “Just…don’t die, ok?”

“We’re fighting reapers,” he scoffed, “death probability is pretty high even before you factor in who our commander is”.

“Yeah, well, fuck that,” Ashley leaned against the wall, “Don’t die”.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he glanced down at his hands, as if to give her privacy.

“Talk about what?”

“The nightmare,” he shrugged, “We all get them, you know, it’s not something to be ashamed of”.

“Something to be proud of then?” she couldn’t help but shoot back “sorry…I’m just…tense”.

He kept bouncing. Damn his patience.

“No,” she whispered, “I don’t want to talk about it”.

“Fine,” he bounced himself off the bed, “let’s go find some food, then”.

He stood at the door, expectantly, waiting for her to follow.

What would Kaidan have done? If it had been him, instead of her (as it should have been), what would he have done?

He certainly wouldn’t have gotten nightmares. Or left Shepard’s side. Maybe Shepard wouldn’t have died the first time. 

He would have loved James, the enthousiasm, the energy, the knowledge, the training, the commitment. 

If he was there, standing right next to her, he would be laughing at her, telling her she should trust her friends, that’s what friends were for.

Maybe she could believe that. She had a lot of trouble believing in God, but she could still believe in angels, she still believed in Kaidan.

“Wait,” he glanced back at her, she took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, it’s just…the last person I did that with died”.

He walked back to the bed, “Not of natural causes?”

Ashley gulped. She had never actually told anyone this story, not even her therapist (admittedly, Alliance therapists were notoriously useless).

“The day after, we had…sex” she flailed her hands, trying to say it was a little more complicated than that, “we hit Virmire”.

_He had said he loved her and she had walked out the door without responding._

“Kaidan Alenko,” James whispered. She should have known he would have caught on, he was smart, and everyone knew that story.

She nodded.

“It was a…situation,” she continued, “I had to set a bomb, Kaidan was supporting the salarian team, we were overwhelmed with geth.”

She tried to clear her head. 

“Shepard could only get one of us,” she shrugged, “she chose me”.

_They had switched to a private radio channel after Shepard made her decision. She had heard him die. And there had been too many geth surrounding her to even say good-bye._

“But it should have been him,” James pulled her mercilessly out of the flashback, “you self-sacrificing ass”.

There wasn’t much to say to that. James bounced in the silence and Ashley kept leaning on the wall, watching, willing it to be enough.

“I lost half the colony on Fehl Prime to collectors,” he broke the silence first, “because I chose some fucking intel. Alliance promoted me, I got fucking promoted because I let a bunch of people die”.

“That’s what happens, soldier,” Ashley quoted some conversation she’d had with Shepard, “you move on, stronger and better.”

“Or just plagued with guilt for the rest for the rest of your life,” he shrugged, “Come on, I’m actually hungry now”.

This time, Ashley followed. 

Kaidan better be fucking right about this.

 

Miranda and Jack were the only ones up, sitting at the kitchen counter, a pot of tea in between them.

“Williams, Vega,” Miranda nodded at them, “want some tea?”

“I’m more of a coffee person,” Ashley declined and made a beeline for the coffee machine, refusing to remember a time when she drank tea.

Jack laughed, “Lucky you. She wouldn’t let me do coffe, says it messes with biotics”.

“It does,” Miranda insisted, “tea is a better amount of caffeine for biotic control”.

“Well, Ms. Perfect,” Jack stuck out her tongue, “I’ve been drinking coffee my entire life without problems”.

“I would certainly say your biotic control is lacking,” Miranda replied primly, sipping at her tea.

“If you want to get more proper, you have to stick your pinky out,” Jack commented and gulped down her tea, “make enough coffee for both of us, Williams”. 

Ashley complied, while Miranda sighed loudly.

“Hey Vega, did Whisper do that?” Jack was obviously bored of waiting for coffee. Ashley had no idea what she was talking about.

“You know Whisper?” James looked slightly startled.

“She did a couple of mine,” Jack shrugged, “I’d show you, but Princess here would complain about ruining the sanctity of tea”.

“Princess?” James raised his eyebrows, “I call her Natasha”. Ok, nicknames, that made more sense.

“My name does happen to be Miranda,” the object of discussion intercepted.

Ashley poured coffee and tried to stay out of the conversation, too many strong personalities in one room, they needed Shepard to keep the calm. 

“Why Natasha?” Jack looked unimpressed, “doesn’t say anything about her”.

“Natasha Romanoff? Black Widow? Avenger?” James sighed, “come on, don’t you guys know anything about twentieth century literature?”

He looked at Ashley hopefully and she shook her head.

“You’re naming me after a Russian spy?” Miranda glanced up, sipping more tea, “I expected something a little less glamorous, coming from a soldier”.

“Are you trying to say you actually understand him?” Jack looked at her incredulously.

Miranda smirked, “Whisper?”

“Tattoo artist,” Jack shrugged, “not a Russian spy”.

The coffee was ready, Ashley started pouring, ignoring the commentary in the background. Coffee was important. 

“Think there’s enough for another cup?” Specialist Traynor was leaning against the wall.

“Shit, I didn’t see you there,” Ashley barely managed to avoid jumping and spilling the coffee, “aren’t you british people tea sorts?”

“Coffee in the morning, tea for everything else,” Trayor shrugged, “Jen’s convinced me that coffee’s a good idea, more caffeine, better for fighting reapers”.

“Jen?” Who the hell was Jen? Ashley handed the other a mug.

“The commander, sorry,” she took the offered coffee, “I just call her that sometimes”.

“You get special privileges for signal tracking?” Ashley would admit that was legit, if Traynor hadn’t tracked that signal to Horizon, they’d still be flying around trying to find reapers to kill, not planning an attack on the Cerberus base. 

“Something like that, yeah,” Traynor smiled and sipped her coffee. It was almost like…wait.

“Are you two…?” she let the question hang, unable to quite understand its meaning.

Traynor nodded into her coffee mug.

“What about Garrus?” keeping track of Shepard and the others was just getting confusing. The only one not causing a mess was James (and T’Soni, but Ashley preferred the asari to not be part of her immediate social circle, nothing personal, she was just a bit boring).

“Oh, I’m glad I’ve gotten to know him better,” she sipped at her coffee, “I never really had a chance to get to know the turians with the Alliance”.

“I meant, wasn’t he dating Shepard?” Ashley had only just wrapped her mind around Garrus not being with Tali and now this…

“Of course,” Traynor kept smiling, “We’re adults, we can share. I wish Joker was as accommodating”.

Ashley had to grin at that, everyone knew about Traynor and EDI, it was a running joke since before she got on the Normandy, “I feel like you don’t really mean that”.

“Hey,” Traynor protested, “Stop reading my mind”.

“Maybe once you’ve taught me how to play chess,” Ashley countered, as Traynor smiled over her head.

Ashley followed her gaze to catch Shepard entering the kitchen.

“Thought you weren’t a coffee person,” the commander stared pointedly at Ashley’s mug.

“Things change,” Ashley shrugged. 

_There had been leftover coffee grounds in Kaidan’s cupboard. Maybe that was his secret. She made the coffee and drank it, grittin her teeth against the bitterness._

Shepard eyed her closely before grabbing Traynor’s half-empty mug and chugging the rest. 

“Hey, get your own,” Traynor whined. Shepard ignored her.

“It’s all right, you know,” she addressed Ashley.

“What’s all right?” Ashley had a feeling she didn’t really want to know.

Traynor crossed her arms and glared at Shepard, who sighed in defeat and went over to the machine to make more coffee.

“You’re a soldier, Williams,” Shepard dumped twice the normal amount of grounds into the filter, “you know we all have to make the hard decisions”.

“Sometimes you make the wrong one,” Ashley muttered, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Is that seriously what you think?” Shepard pressed the power button and looked up at her, “Because I’ve come to a very different conclusion”.

“And, what’s that, commander?” Ashley tried, and failed, to keep her voice steady.

“I think that sometimes there isn’t a wrong choice,” Shepard spoke slowly, looking at the bottom of the empty mug, “whatever choice I make, the other option will haunt me forever”.

“But,” she continued looking straight into Ashley’s eyes, “that doesn’t mean I regret my decision for an instant.”

“Thanks?” Ashley wasn’t sure if this was supposed to make her feel better. It didn’t really. Kaidan was still dead. She could feel her breath start to catch. No more panic attacks dammit.

“You can’t have everything, Williams,” Shepard turned back to the coffee, “I’m pretty damn lucky with what I’ve got. So are you.”

“Not sure if losing the entire galaxy to reapers is really that lucky, ma’am,” she had to say it.

Shepard rolled her eyes, “Stop being a soldier for ten seconds and look around you LC, you’re surrounded by friends”.

Yeah, yeah, ok. Ashley could see the point, but it was so much easier to wallow in the guilt and despair of the past few years than think about the fact that Shepard might actually be _thankful_ she was alive.

But, maybe she could. She’d do anything for Shepard, really.

“Noted, commander,” she tried to smile.

“That was too serious for this early,” Traynor announced pouring the coffee, “You soldiers are weird”.

The look on Miranda’s face as James showed her his N7 tattoo certainly seemed to agree with Traynor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End! 
> 
> All previous warnings apply.
> 
> Serious internalized arophobia. For the record, I do not agree with Ashley's use of the word normal or basically most of her opinions concerning aromanticism, she has a long journey of self-acceptance ahead of her.

### “And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you/Wise as you will have become, so full of experience/You will have understood by then what these Ithakas mean”

The briefing with Hackett was easier than she’d expected, nothing but the facts – Shepard and Anderson were missing, all the mass relays (except the one Tali had activated to get them back to Earth) were dead, as well as the geth (though Ashley figured that wasn’t a huge loss.

They were heros, but this wasn’t a war anymore. Now, the galaxy was in recovery. The Alliance would provide for them, but there was no need for soldiers anymore. 

She moved in with Lynn and her asari partner, but there wasn’t much for her to do, except watch as the galaxy started to stitch itself back together. Abby visited and Sarah visited, but they never stayed. They had their own partners and children to take care of.

It wasn’t like her family was broken, but it was certainly moving apart.

The Normandy team split too. Garrus and Tali and Miranda and Jack had moved in together in a civilian flat. Joker was in Alliance housing. James had moved in with Cortez (Ashley had never had much though for the shuttle driver until she had gone down to the cargo bay a few nights before they got back to Earth and seen James kissing him, but after some time, she had begun to hold a deep respect for him.)

She’d visit them all, but there was a heavy weight over everything – Shepard was missing, not dead, just missing. 

Death was ok, Shepard had already done that once, missing was something completely different.

Ashley just felt empty. The nightmares were replaced by nothingness. She barely noticed when she switched back to drinking tea. In the eyes of a psych, she’d be recovering, but she couldn’t feel enough to know if that was a good thing. 

It was Lynn that finally put her foot down.

“You need to get a job, Ash,” she’d proclaimed, storming into the kitchen one night.

“There’s no geth,” Ashley had mumbled, “I don’t have any skills anymore”.

“Well, then get off your ass and get some,” Lynn retorted, “you’re not stupid Ash, you could do a lot of things”.

“If you don’t want me here, just say,” Ashley knew she was being unreasonable but she hated being pushed, “I’ll leave if it’s too much of a problem”.

“Are you seriously going there?” Lynn slammed the papers she was holding on the counter, “you’re my sister, I’m not going to kick you out. I just…I hate seeing you mope around as if you’ve lost your entire life”.

“I’m not moping,” Ashley responded petulantly. 

“Yes you are,” Lynn rolled her eyes, “and tomorrow you’re going to stop and go find yourself a job”.

Lynn suddenly seemed like a terrifying monster. For the first time in months, Ashley felt fear, annoyance, shame. 

“And just, what happened to you?” Lynn continued before Ashley could defend herself, “you used to take care of us, now you can barely take care of yourself”.

She was such an embarrassment. Breaking the Williams curse meant nothing if she couldn’t get herself off her sister’s couch. Ashley couldn’t breath, she had to get out.

“War happened,” she mumbled, and then raced out of the flat before the conversation could continue. 

 

James and Cortez (Steve…eh) were out when she got to the flat. They found her leaning against the railing in the rain when they walked up (it wasn’t that cold). 

“Are you all right?” Cortez asked politely. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Just needed to get out for a bit”.

“…and stand in the rain outside of our apartment?” James looked unconvinced. 

Something about his existence forced her to answer truthfully. He’d seen her at her worst. Honesty was the least she could give in return, considering how distant she’d been since they’d gotten back. 

“I don’t really know,” she shook her head, “but I’d rather not be there right now”.

“I think there are sheets on the guest bed?” he turned to Cortez, who nodded.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like,” he stated calmly, “but can we please get out of the rain?”

 

“You could always just live here, you know,” James remarked later as he dug around for a towel for her.

“As a constant third wheel?” Ashley scoffed. She couldn’t help her anger. It wasn’t like she had had any claim on him to begin with. And she was aromantic, that meant no relationships, right? But she still felt hurt that he wasn’t all hers anymore (no matter how lovely Cortez was).

“No,” his fingers tapped slowly (frustration), “as Ashley”.

She had no idea what that meant.

“We did sleep together,” James looked at her guiltily, as if he knew how unacceptable that topic of conversation was, “doesn’t that tell you anything?”

“Sex with me doesn’t mean anything,” Ashley shrugged. What was the meaning of sex without the romance?

“Do you really believe that?”

“Yeah,” she didn’t want to, but she did. 

And, her frustration started to make sense. She had wanted to believe it was possible, that other people existed without relations, that she wasn’t alone. And then James, the only damn person who seemed to be like that, went and got himself a boyfriend.

In the end, the asexual person was more normal than the aromantic one. At least when he had sex, it meant he cared (she didn’t want to think about that in terms of her, she probably wouldn’t like the answer). 

 

She did get a job at a children’s home. There were so many abandoned children whose parents had died in the war of all species and she had always been good with kids.

The asari children were a bit pretentious (parents all claiming they were the best race ever) and the salarians tended to be smart enough to terrify her on a daily basis (short life spans really did affect developmental growth), but it was satisfying.

She learned how to laugh watching a krogan toddler charge a tower she had just built with her elcor playmate, and the nothingness began to fade away into…something.

She almost felt guilty to be smiling while Shepard was still missing. ( _“You can’t have everything, Williams, I’m pretty damn lucky with what I’ve got. So are you.”_ )

She tried not to. 

She and James would go out for drinks on Friday nights (they blantantly ignored the tension that had grown stronger after the night she had spent at his flat). No more drinking to forget, just simple drinks between friends. It was strangely normal. 

One time, he put his beer down after one sip.

“Ithaka,” he stated calmly.

“I’m sorry, what?” Ashley had no idea why he was mentioning Greece.

“Your nickname,” he shrugged, “it’s a poem, you like poems”.

Oh.

“Didn’t know you read poetry,” she teased him, ignoring the fluttering in her stomach. Why was he telling her this now? Why had he even kept it secret?

He rolled his eyes, “I only read gay poets. Cavafy. Good stuff”.

Greek guy, that’s about all Ashley knew. She was curious though.

“Anyways,” James kept talking, “you asked if my not using your nickname made you special, and yeah, it does”. 

That was a long time ago. 

Ashley put down her beer. He wasn’t bothering to fake eye contact anymore, he was serious. It was too much.

“You’ll always be Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams no matter what name I use,” something about the way he said it made it sound like a declaration of love. Ashley wished for her own black ring to wave in his face as a reminder of her inability to love back (but she did love? didn’t she? She loved Lynn and Sarah and Abby, and she certainly loved James…just not romantically, not in the right way).

He fished around in his pocket and took out a tiny black, velvet covered box, and passed it to her. 

And, of course, inside was a black ring. James wouldn’t have forgotten. Something broke inside of her. Maybe there really was nothing wrong.

“I could have gotten my own,” she remarked petulantly, she didn’t want to seem too emotional, after all. 

“But you didn’t,” he shrugged, “besides, I have to ask you something else, too, figured it would be good to soften you up first”.

“What?” Ashley stared at the black ring. Could she actually wear it? Could she walk out of this bar visibly aromantic? Did she have the guts?

“Move in with us,” James took the ring and slid it onto her finger, “not as a third wheel, or a friend, or a soldier, or whatever, come as family”.

He took a deep breath before continuing, eyes directly on the table “I love you, Ithaka, and that doesn’t mean anything less because I love Esteban. It’s just…I miss you, and I want you to be part of my life”.

Oh. And he didn’t mind that she was different?

“You see me at least once a week,” Ashley pointed out before realizing that that was probably not the best way to respond to one’s friend admitting they loved them, “I mean…I don’t know what I mean”.

James’ tapping increased, he was going to bolt soon if she continued to be this stupid.

She grabbed his wrist, “I love you too”. She had never thought she would say that to anyone. And she could begin to see things sliding into place. She loved. She cared. She was good. She was brilliant. 

She could see James’ mind already half out of the door, somewhere he felt safe and willed him to feel safe with her, to come back. 

“Let go then, so I can flap,” he muttered.

She grinned and let him. As long as James was flapping, things were all right. 

 

It only took a minute after moving in to get out the book she had bought as a house gift (maybe not what you were supposed to do, but she owed him something for the ring). She’d read the first poem (her poem) and then leave it on the coffee table for the other two to discover when they came home from their date. 

“As you set out for Ithaka, hope the voyage is a long one…”

Maybe it was time for a new Ithaka…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the entire poem, go here http://www.cavafy.com/poems/content.asp?id=74&cat=1
> 
> Cavafy is the best poet ever. So maybe just read a lot of Cavafy...


End file.
